


Pixelated Romance

by Bexless



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Cosplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-30
Updated: 2011-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-21 23:43:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bexless/pseuds/Bexless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote this for an anon challenge on LJ. My prompt was 'Frank/anyone in Mcr, Frank's mustache.' I don't know about you, but that says 'Frank/Gerard Mario cosplaying' to me!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pixelated Romance

**Author's Note:**

> I can't remember who betaed this and because it was anonymous I couldn't put it on the story when I posted. I think it was Shoemaster! I also can't remember whose prompt I filled :(

All anyone has said to Frank for the past two weeks is, "You look like Mario," so when they randomly end up invited to some costume party Frank thinks _fuck it_ and embraces his inner pixelated Italian plumber.

What he is not expecting is to get to the party and have _Gerard_ embrace Frank's inner Italian pixelated plumber, or for him to do it while wearing a bright pink ball gown and elbow-length white gloves.

"You see," says Frank, "this is why we shouldn't meet at parties without _discussing our costumes first_."

"I'm Princess Peach!" Gerard says, like _duh_. Then he actually says, "Duh," and tosses his head. "I stopped by a thrift store on my way here. Before I found this stuff I was just gonna draw on a goatee and be my evil twin."

Frank rolls his eyes. "You're stealing my thunder," he complains. "Now my whole, like _thing_ is off. I was supposed to be saying _fuck you_ and now I'm saying like...here I am with Gerard."

"Oh," says Gerard, looking sorry for a second. Then he kind of scowls and says, "If I wasn't here being Princess Peach people wouldn't be able to even tell you're Mario! They'd just think you're wearing overalls."

"I have the mustache!" Frank says, outraged.

"You have the mustache all the time!" Gerard points out with a dismissive flick of his wrist. His cigarette veers dangerously close to Frank's eye. Gerard doesn't notice and says, "You need me, Frank Iero. You _need_ to be here with Gerard."

Frank says, "Oh my God, I am not role-playing videogame romance with you in somebody's kitchen."

Frank doesn't even know whose kitchen it is. Or whose house this party is at. Or what state they're in. It's oddly freeing. Like his mustache. He talks to a girl in an awesome Raven costume for a while, gets briefly drawn into a violent debate about wallpaper, and then suddenly he's cornered by Gerard again, in the hallway this time.

"I mean she doesn't even really need him," Gerard says seriously, hitching up his gloves, which are dirty and keep sliding down around his wrists. "Her umbrella flies – well, it doesn't really _fly_ , but it floats, like her skirt- for fuck's sake, how do these fucking things stay on? Anyway, and she plays tennis with Bowser even though he's supposed to be all a supervillain and like, a _dinosaur_. Do you know what I'm saying?"

"Yes," says Frank, which is always the safest response.

"So really, there's no reason for Mario at all-"

"What?" says Frank, suddenly drawn back into the conversation by _righteous fury_. "No _reason_ for him? The game's fucking named after him! It's not called Super Princess Peach!"

"Well," says Gerard, with the air of a man taking the first step up a huge fucking mountain of words, "actually, _Super Princess Peach_ was released in two thousand and-"

"No!" Frank yells, loud enough that three people dressed as spiders (ugh) turn and stare at him. "No, okay, Mario is the hero and Princess Peach is the one who needs rescuing from Bowser, ok, that's the way it works."

Gerard gets his affronted face on. "But-"

"No – okay, Peach doesn't even have a mustache, man, how awesome can she possibly be?"

"Growing a mustache is not a life skill!"

"You would say that," Frank says smugly. He strokes his mustache lovingly. "You can't grow one."

Gerard's mouth drops open, and he spits and fusses for a second before his shoulders slump and he says, "I know."

He sounds so deflated, and his head actually drops forward and his stupid dress slides off one shoulder. Frank laughs at him, but then leans in and kisses the dejected curve of his neck.

Frank kisses Gerard all the time and usually Gerard just kisses him back or smiles or shoves him away depending on how he's feeling – so it's a surprise when instead he goes _reeeeeeeeeee_ and flails his arms out, shrugging his shoulder up high to his ear.

"Your mustache tickles!" he laughs when Frank gives him a look. "I don't know, it's new. I mean I guess you've had mustaches before but maybe you never kissed me when you had any of them."

"Oh, well then," says Frank, and sets about getting Gerard to make the _reeeeeeeeeeee_ noise as much as possible, which it turns out is a lot. So much so that the spider-people cough pointedly and then leave, and when Frank tries brushing his lips right in the hollow under Gerard's ear, Gerard does a full-body jacknife and his gloves fall down and off, taking his cigarette with them, and then his _fucking dress is on fire_.

"Flammable, flammable!" Gerard shouts at no-one, like some kind of really dangerous performance art, and Frank barrels into him and knocks him over and rolls him around on the floor until the flames are out.

"Are you okay?" he pants, scrambling up to yank Gerard's dress up and examine his legs. They don't look burned, though, just pale and hairy with knobbly knees, like always. "Oh my fucking God."

"My dress," Gerard says sadly, patting at the singed remains of his skirt. "This thing cost me a whole four bucks."

"Sorry, man." Frank hauls him to sit on the stairs and puts an arm around him. "Seriously are you okay? Getting set on fire is kind of a big deal."

"You'd know," says Gerard, and then frowns thoughtfully. "A lot of us have been set on fire, you know. I mean the band."

"We're daredevils," Frank agrees.

Gerard sniffs. "But this was really your fault for tickling me."

"I just _rescued_ you," Frank points out. "From a fire!"

"A fire your stupid mustache started!"

"I'll start a fire on your _face_ ," Frank threatens, and Gerard actually looks really annoyed, which – okay, maybe that was kind of on the line. "I'll start a fire in your pants?" Frank tries instead.

Gerard smirks. "I'm not wearing any."

"I'll start a fire in your-"

"Nope," says Gerard, starting to grin like a crazy person. "Not wearing those either."

Frank stares at him. Gerard laughs and covers his face for a second. When he sits back up his face is pink.

"Oh my God," says Frank.

"I know!" says Gerard, and starts laughing again, folding forward to hide his face against his billowy, charred skirt.

"Your fucking dick could have burned off!" Frank yelps, retroactively alarmed. "Jesus!"

"I'm pretty sure it didn't," Gerard says, patting Frank's knee comfortingly. "But you can double-check if it'll make you feel better."

He sort of sounds like he's joking, and he waggles his eyebrows dorkily when Frank looks at him. On the other hand, why the fuck not? Frank sticks his hand up Gerard's skirt, and Gerard squeals and fights him, and somehow Frank ends up bumping down a couple of steps on his knees and accidentally brushes the back of Gerard's calf with his mustache, which makes Gerard go _reeeeeeeee_ again and try to kick Frank in the face.

Frank pulls his head out from under Gerard's skirt. "Um, maybe this isn't the best place for this."

Gerard is breathing kind of fast. He looks around, blinking slowly. "Oh right. Public."

There's this moment where they kind of stare at each other, like – really? Now? Gerard's biting his lip. He's wearing these ugly-ass giant pearl clip-on earrings and his dress is halfway down his arm by now.

Apparently Frank will not role-play videogame romance with him in the kitchen, but he's more than willing to do it on the stairs.

"What?" says Gerard, warily.

"Nothing," Frank shakes his head, still giggling. "Just – Stockholm syndrome, I don't know."

He struggles up onto his feet and gives Gerard a hand up. Gerard sways forward a little too far, and Frank catches him around the waist.

"You rescued me," Gerard says, smiling a little bit.

"Not from a supervillain dinosaur."

"Nope." Gerard touches Frank's chin. "From a fire."

"You know," says Frank, "in the games Peach always rewards Mario with a kiss."

"It tickles," says Gerard, but he kisses Frank anyway, throwing his arms dramatically around Frank's neck. Frank resists the urge to make a victory beep into Gerard's mouth.

"In _Super Princess Peach_ her umbrella is called Perry and it talks," Gerard starts when they stop for breath, and shutting him up is as good a reason as any for Frank to kiss him again, and again, and again.


End file.
